


Act VII - Missing Him

by Browneyesparker



Series: Love Scenes [8]
Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Angst, Broadway, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Letters, Songfic, showtunes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 12:42:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1347850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Browneyesparker/pseuds/Browneyesparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Confession, I don’t feel like I’m feeling it these days. I feel like this is terrible and that I am completely off base with this story, especially given the last few episodes we’ve been given. But I wanted to write it, needed to write it because I wanted Lisbon to miss Jane, and because I miss Jane/Lisbon. At first I thought I was overreacting, but then my PARENTS mentioned it. Anyways, tell me what you thought of this piece. I need some reassurance today, which is something I rarely ask for.</p>
<p>Holly, 3/21/2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	Act VII - Missing Him

**.**

 

_“And I won’t miss his moods, his gloomy solitudes, his blunt abrasive style, but please don’t get me wrong. He was the best to come along in a long, long while.”_

**I Guess I’ll Miss the Man, Pippen_**

  


“I’m glad you’re here,” Annabeth Lisbon told her aunt, Teresa Lisbon, after she had picked her up from the airport and they were cruising down the highway with an obscure indie rock band playing on her iPod.

 

“I’m only going to be here for a little bit,” Lisbon reminded her. “Just until I can find some new work, a new place to live. . . just until I can get on my feet again.”

  
“Well, all the same, I’m still glad you’re here.”

  
“Yeah,” Lisbon agreed, looking out of the window at the whizzing scenery. “Me too.”

“Do you miss him?” Annie asked, stealing a glance at Lisbon, knowing the answer even before she answered her.

Lisbon sighed, not looking  at her niece, knowing who she meant without even asking for her to clarify. “Who are you talking about Annabeth?”

“Patrick Jane,” Annie answered.

“Honestly, I haven’t thought about him since he left,” Lisbon replied.

But she was lying, she had been thinking about him ever since they’d parted the last time. She had listened to his message over and over again, searching for a hint about his feelings towards her. Looking for the love she had secretly imagined would bloom after his foe was finally gone. But the only thing she heard was relief laced with sadness, but not regret. It was like a parting message, and instead of reassurance she was left with a feeling that she would never see or hear from him again.

“Are you sure?” Annie pressed, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Yes, Annie. You don’t know what a relief it is to have him out of my life,” Lisbon said. “He was a complete and utter pain in the neck. I’m glad to be rid of him.”

“That’s strange. He always seemed to adore you,” Annie mused.

Lisbon looked at her then. “Yeah, well. . . this isn’t _Twilight_ or whatever silly love story teenagers are reading these days. In real life, the girl hardly ends up with the guy at the end of the story. In real life, the guy turns out to be a real tool and he leaves the girl to deal with all the crap."

“But did you really want to see him go to jail?” Annie questioned.

“Annabeth,” Lisbon said, trying to put an edge of warning in her words.

“Sorry,” Annie muttered. “I guess Jane is another off-limits subject that dad forgot to warn me about.”

 “Excuse me?”

 “Nothing,” Annie answered, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “Do you want to stop and get some ice cream before we go home?”

“Maybe later,” Lisbon said. “It’s been a long couple of months Annie, I just want to go to your apartment and crash.”

“Sounds good to me,” Annie mumbled, turning off the highway. “Hey Auntie Reese, I am sorry for everything that’s happened to you these past couple of months. You didn’t deserve it.”

Lisbon smiled. “Thanks sweetie.”

“Now, are you sure you’re not going to miss him?” Annie asked.

“Annie. . .” Lisbon said, trailing off and shaking her head. “I would rather not talk about this right now.”

“Fine,” Annie replied.

**.**

“Do you miss him, Boss?” Wayne Rigsby asked as he and Kimball Cho helped her move into her new house in Washington.

Lisbon feigned ignorance again. “Do I miss _who_ Wayne?”

_“Jane,”_ Rigsby answered like it hadn’t been the most obvious question in the whole entire world.

 “You don’t have to answer that Boss,” Cho told her as he tried to lug her new Ikea couch into a corner so he could make room for new boxes.

“Okay, first of all I’m not your boss anymore. And second of all, things have been so crazy lately that I haven’t really had the time to miss Jane!”

“Okay,” Cho said, giving Rigsby a look that told him to shut up. 

“Sorry for even asking,” Rigsby muttered, looking slightly abashed.

 “I mean, what’s there to miss?” Lisbon asked, mostly to herself.  “He was moody more than he was cheerful and he was always getting me into trouble. I had more paperwork to fill out than anybody I knew and he was always disappearing, I never knew where he was. Why would I miss him?”

 “Why indeed,” Cho said dryly. “Are you about ready to take a break? I could order the pizza now if you are. . .”

 “Go ahead and order the pizza,” Lisbon answered. “I’m going to get a start on organizing my bedroom while we wait for it to be delivered.”

 She went into her room, pulled her phone out of her pocket and pulled up her voicemail. A few key strokes and he’d finally be gone from her life for good. She might honestly be able to say that she didn’t miss him when she was asked about it. But instead of hitting the delete button, she pressed play and put the phone up to her ear, closing her eyes and listening to his message for what seemed like the millionth time. And she knew, she knew she would never get rid of it because she would need it for when she had finally forgotten what his voice sounded like.

**.**   


A couple of weeks after Lisbon had settled into Washington, a blonde woman with a lithe build and more tattoos than Lisbon could count came into the sheriff’s department.

 "Are you Agent Lisbon?” She asked.

“Sheriff,” Lisbon corrected with a small laugh. “I haven’t been _agent_ in a while now.”

“Oh. Well Sheriff Lisbon it is then,” the girl replied. “My name’s Iris. I have something for you, care of Pete.”

“Pete?” Lisbon questioned. “As in Pete from the carnival?”

“Yes,” Iris answered, looking at her with obvious distaste. “He would have delivered this himself, but he was a little busy. So, he sent me to come instead.”

Lisbon frowned. “Is everything okay? Pete isn’t sick, is he? Sam’s doing well, I hope—”

“They’re both fine. They just wanted me to send something to you.” She answered, reaching her tattooed hand into her ratty, oversized messenger bag and pulling an envelope out. “They seemed to think this would be pretty important to you.”

Lisbon took the envelope cautiously and held it between her index finger and thumb. “What is it?”

“I have no idea, I was just doing what was asked of me even though you are a cop.”

Lisbon smirked. “You’ve been dying to get that out since you came in here, haven’t you?”

Iris smirked back. “What do you think? I’ve got to split, stay cool _Sheriff_ Lisbon.”

When Iris had left, Lisbon put the envelope down and looked at it. Her heart gave a great jolt when she realized  that she knew the writing. With shaking hands, she ripped the letter open and scanned the letter, taking in each word as they filled her heart to the brim with a sort of unspeakable joy and heartache, it made her miss him even more.

She finished the letter and then read it again for a second time, trying to commit his words to memory just in case this was the last time she ever heard from him. When she was finished, she tucked it into her purse for safe keeping and tried not to think about him for the rest of the afternoon. But it was almost impossible when she was missing him so much.

**.**

  
“Do you miss him?”

It had been a while since anybody had asked her this question, 18 months to be exact. Each time she had lied fervently, had told everybody that she hadn’t even had the time to miss him. And now, 18 months later with a box full of letters from him sitting on her bookshelf, she couldn’t bring herself to tell another falsehood. Especially not to Virgil Minelli, the man was literally like a father to her.

Lisbon stirred her iced tea with her straw before taking a long sip and sighing. “My life is so much easier now and I miss him every _single_ day. I can’t even tell you why I do,” she replied.  “He was the most impossible man to work with. . . but I still miss him, I still miss him every single day and I don’t think that will ever go away though, not unless he comes back to me. Not _until_ he comes back to me. Because even though he was probably one of the worst men I’ve ever known, he was still the best one to come along in a long time.”

  
**_The End_**


End file.
